


only for the night, if you want.

by tastylemonade



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anxious Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Christmas Parties, Coitus Interruptus, Connor is a huge sap, Connor is a music nerd, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Mentions of Prince, Mild Smut, Other, SO MUCH FLUFF, a late ass christmas prompt, he's really trying ok, human!AU, let Reader and Connor fuck, mixtapes, reverse!au - Freeform, what the fuck is tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-09-23 07:07:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17075684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastylemonade/pseuds/tastylemonade
Summary: It seems like every time you & Connor attempt to have some "alone time", it's interrupted by, aggravatingly, the many people in your lives. During the annual DPD Christmas party, you both sneak away to fix this. He's a fucking dork, but you love it.





	only for the night, if you want.

You were certain, for all intents and purposes, that you had the _shittiest_ luck.

Well- you and your boyfriend, who was currently attempting to tame the wild brown locks that covered his head with a small golden tooth comb you gifted him for his birthday. "How's this look, baby? Presentable?" Connor grins at his reflection, matching your wandering stare in the mirror. "Decent. For a change... maybe I liked the homeless look."  
"Guess you do, if you've stayed with me this long." You could agree with that. 

Had eight months passed by so quickly? The concept of time was rather difficult to keep in mind when you were with him- what is it they say about fools rushing in?  
  
"Actually- hold on, let me fix it." It was too slick, too neat. Yes, indeed, he was incredibly handsome in his current attire (as eccentric as his wardrobe could be); but something was definitely missing. "Ah, there we are," you say, satisfied, taking a few small strands and brushing them forward, together forming an endearing curl to settle on his forward. You place a kiss on the scar that graced his temple. "Gotta remember where you came from, and all that." He simply chuckles, the loving gaze he gives you forcing blood to come rushing into your cheeks. "If you keep staring at me like that, we'll only end up late," you attempt to chastise. He pulls you into an embrace anyway, and now you're strongly reconsidering your stance. Being fashionably late was still a thing, right? "You know I wouldn't mind," he breathes against your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses that make your eyes flutter, your entire body shuddering under his touch; and how could you deny him? He made such a compelling argument, after all.   
Once he reaches your lips you only grasp him tighter, resolve diminishing, and he in return slides mischievous hands from your hips to your bottom, squeezing firmly enough to make you gasp. With a slight smirk, he takes the opportunity to taste the inside of your mouth. He explores familiar delicious territory, and you submit to it willingly-but you wanted _more_.  
  
It had only been for the last few weeks or so, but intimacy had been-lightly put- quite the difficulty for the both of you. Actually, it was absolutely infuriating; a simple lip lock did not always do the trick, so _why_ , you had pondered the last few nights underneath an exhausted mess of a detective, had the universe suddenly decided sex (making love, fucking, intercourse, the _forbidden fucking tango_ ) was completely off the table. What had you done? What had _he_ done?   
  
You could understand the first couple of instances; his tongue was doing absolute wonders on your bare chest while you gripped the couch cushions, when he was suddenly called in for a homicide. He had you pinned to the kitchen counter, legs wrapped around his waist and a torn shirt (he still owed you) when his partner, the HK800 android, Hank, had come knocking at the door to retrieve him; his expression turned sour, but you reassured him you could play 'catch-up' that night. Unfortunately, he overworked himself to the point of unconsciousness, so you both merely slept in each other's arms. Fine, you could understand that. He had a job, he was passionate about it, and you would never force him to do anything in a hazy state of mind.   
  
And then it was _your parents_ coming over for a surprise visit. "We had to see how much you've grown," they had said.  
And then it was _you_ being called into work early, "or else you'll be terminated", you boss had threatened.  
And then it was _him_ being called into work late, "or we'll never solve the case," Hank had warned.  
And then it was _him_ being dragged out by his brothers for a sibling's night out. "For some fresh air and brotherly bonding," they had claimed.  
  
Yes, you were sure  _someone_ must've placed a personal vendetta against you. But now, in your private moment of soft touches and desperate kisses, your desire continued to climb vigorously, and from the current situation in his pants you could _definitely_ feel, he was thinking the same.

You needed more contact with his skin, labored with forgotten stories and past mistakes, calloused hands touching anywhere, everywhere. You craved the possessive look in his eyes when he fucked you against the surface available, how his forehead pushed against yours with a wavering breath, "look at me," barely audible when you became lost, blinded in the pleasure that climbed with every thrust he filled you with. The series of bruises and marks that would adorn your skin, and how he'd kiss every one once you caught your breath. The moans, the sighs, the cries that poured heavenly from his lips; the way his face contorted when he would get so close, the grip he had in your hair that was tight enough to force you to look back at him, demanding you to say his name over, and over, and _over_ \- you needed this- you both needed this-  
  
_Vrrm. Vrrm. Vrrm. Vrrm_.  
  
So much for romance.  
"Who in the ever loving _fuck_ ," he scowls, keeping an arm around you as he digs into his pocket to retrieve his cellphone. "What the hell do you want, Richard?" Richard? Why was he calling at such a- _oh_. "Yeah, we're on our way now. We're alright, just-" he pauses, finding your eyes only to give you a quick wink, "-lost track of time. Yup. You, too." _Click_.  
"Guess there's no way out of this one," you utter, holding his face and resting his forehead against yours. Was it selfish to want him all to yourself for the entirety of the party? Probably so. "Nope, in it for the long haul." You feel his lips kiss your hand tenderly as he continues. "But hey. It's the annual Christmas party. And," a kiss to your forehead, "I've yet to get my present." "Guess you'll have to wait _all_ night, Anderson," you quip, your face making him laugh so loud you can't help but join him.  
For now, you just had to get through tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't expect this to be so long wtf,, yes i am hELLA late with this christmas party prompt but better late than never right?,,


End file.
